


Don't Say It Softly

by paperstorm



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Bottom Sebastian, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, POV Sebastian, Praise Kink, Romance, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 21:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16584230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: It’s always ‘sweet’. Chris compliments him up and down, in private and public, whenever he’s given the opportunity, but much more often than not, sweet is the word that ends up coming out of Chris’s mouth when he’s asked to say something about the co-star who plays his on-screen best friend. Chris loves everyone he works with – in a way, he sort of loves everyone he’s ever met – so he litters praise on them as well, when fans or interviewers ask. None of them are ever called sweet. That word is reserved just for Sebastian.





	Don't Say It Softly

**Author's Note:**

> I have been fixated, to an unhealthy degree, on how often Chris has used the word 'sweet' to describe Sebastian over the last eight years. This story has been percolating in my head for months and then [Chris's recent display at the ACE con in Chicago](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo4v6tFlQhU/?utm_source=ig_twitter_share&igshid=1xao3ycmilu8c) tipped it over the edge and made it happen. 
> 
> Title is from the song "See Her Out" by Francis and the Lights

_Sweetheart_ , with that typical grab to his chest, hand going over his heart like he’s saying it from there instead of from his lips.  _Such a sweet guy_ , head tipped back, the word  _such_  extra emphasised, his voice going up in pitch on it, a small laugh near the end of the sentence, like he still, after all these years, has trouble believing it isn’t too good to be true.  _It comes outta his pores_. There’s a girl in the background outright squealing. Sebastian might join her. He watches the clip over and over again, three times, then four, then ten. The way Chris looks, cozy sweater and Boston ball cap, just a hint of scruff on his cheeks like it’s been two or three days since he’s shaved. He looks so good, so relaxed and warm and like he’d be down for curling up in a blanket as soon as the panel ends and taking a four hour nap. His voice has that edge to it – that rasp, the way it gets when he’s truly at ease. Chris is nervous at these kinds of things, sometimes. A lot of the time. From this, and the other clip Sebastian watched, where Chris talked about Steve and Bucky – called them  _precious_  – today, Chris seems at ease. He’s so happy about that.  
   
He plays the clip one more time.  _So, so sweet_. Chris looks overwhelmed when he says that bit. He calls Sebastian sweet three separate times, spends a solid 40 straight seconds gushing about Sebastian, praising him, complimenting him, with his hand on his heart and stars in his eyes, and Sebastian can’t help himself. Two more watches. It’s less than a minute long, it’s not like watching it over and over is taking up too much of his time. Especially since he can’t think of anything better he could be doing at this exact moment, then lying on his couch and watching his boyfriend say such gorgeous, lovely things about him, in a room full of people and cameras.  
   
Anthony had sent him the clip. Sebastian had actually forgotten Chris was going to the convention today. He feels guilty about that. Usually, if he isn’t in the same city, he texts Chris before an appearance like this, to wish him luck, to fill him with confidence, tell him he’ll be great, and tell him to call Sebastian right after if it doesn’t go well. It’s important, so very important, to get Chris out of his head as quickly as possible after a public appearance leaves him off balance. If he’s given the time and the space to get lost in his thoughts, to give in to self-deprecation and those cruel voices in his head that taunt him and pull him down into their darkness, he isn’t so easy to pull back out. It doesn’t always work, sometimes it happens anyway despite Sebastian’s best efforts, but sometimes a quick phone conversation can stop the spiral before it starts, if he says the right things. Today, he’d forgotten, until Anthony sent him the clip. Luckily, Chris seems comfortable and relaxed and happy. Maybe a little bit too relaxed. Guard down enough to become the human embodiment of the heart-eyes emoji, and call Sebastian sweet three times in 40 seconds.  
   
_Check out your boy_ , the accompanying text from Anthony had read.  _He got a little happy talkin about you at that con today in front of hundreds of people and the entire internet_  
   
Sebastian isn’t sure he would have seen it, if Anthony hadn’t sent it. He’s outside of the Marvel world at the moment, not keeping up to date with news and appearances and announcements. He’s been done filming for a while, his hair back to its normal length and some of the bulk he packed on starting to fade away because he’s far too lazy to go to the gym every day when he isn’t being paid for it. He might have missed this altogether. Might never have seen Chris’s eyes go all sparkly, the way he’d tossed his head back and sunk a little further into the chair, like he was almost literally melting while telling a crowd of fans how sweet and good Sebastian is, while that girl squealed in the background. Sebastian is sure she wasn’t the only one. He’s doing it too, only internally.  
   
_He’s gonna get us in trouble_ , he texts back to Anthony, mostly just to stop himself from watching the clip for now the fifteenth time.  
   
_Forgets he’s not in his living room with friends, where he can carry on about you to his sappy little heart’s content_ , Anthony answers. The typing dots appear, and then he adds,  _Till the rest of us wanna shove a sock in his mouth to make him shut up_.  
   
Sebastian smiles, and it sends warmth down his spine, down his legs, to the tips of his fingers. Chris does tend to get carried away. On a lot of subjects, not just Sebastian. He’s a passionate person, it’s one of the things Sebastian loved first about him, eight years ago when loving him was brand new. But he has a habit of getting extra carried away when he talks about Sebastian, about  _them_ , and Sebastian knows sometimes it is too much. One of these days he’s going to slip, to say something he won’t be able to take back. As of this moment, Sebastian doesn’t care. He’s bowled over, listening to Chris talk about him like that in a room full of strangers, knowing full well what will happen once the video spreads.  
   
It’s always ‘sweet’. Chris compliments him up and down, in private and public, whenever he’s given the opportunity, but much more often than not, sweet is the word that ends up coming out of Chris’s mouth when he’s asked to say something about the co-star who plays his on-screen best friend. He has other words for other people. Robert gets called great. Anthony gets called hilarious. Scarlett gets called amazing. Chris loves everyone he works with – in a way, he sort of loves everyone he’s ever met – so he litters praise on them as well, when fans or interviewers ask. None of them are ever called sweet. That word is reserved just for Sebastian. So sweet, the sweetest guy, sweetest kid on the planet. Chris has said that one on more than one occasion, with more than one camera on him while he did. He uses it when they’re alone, too. Sebastian gets called sweetheart in a raspy morning voice,  _you’re the sweetest_  when he brings Chris coffee,  _my sweet boy_  when Chris’s pulsing erection is halfway down his throat and Chris is petting his hair and murmuring to him like he’s talking to a kitten instead of the grown man sucking his dick.  
   
Sebastian has never asked, why that particular word. What it is about him that makes Chris call him the sweetest person in the world. He isn’t sure he’d be able to handle Chris’s answer. Chris is a walking Hallmark movie at the worst of times. Asking him to describe exactly what it is about Sebastian that makes him so damn  _sweet_  might be a suicide mission. Sebastian’s heart might burst halfway through the first sentence.  
   
He looks back at his phone, types out  _Should I call him? Give him shit for his lack of subtlety?_  
   
_Dude you should drive to Chicago and stick your tongue up his ass. Did you hear that shit? If somebody stood up on a stage and talked about me like that I’d probably propose on the spot_  
   
Sebastian had not considered that, which is ridiculous, because of course that’s exactly what he should do. He sends the eggplant emoji to Anthony, and then finds Chris’s number in his contacts. He doubts Chris will answer, he’s still at the convention, probably signing autographs and dolling out hugs like candy on Halloween and smiling that big, gorgeous, golden smile for everyone in the world to see. He’s so open and trusting and heartfelt, welcoming in anyone who wants a conversation or a few moments in the warmth of his arms. He gives every bit of himself up for the rest of the world to consume, even his insecurities, except for the bits he saves just for Sebastian. The sleepy smiles and the bruising fingers on his hips and the heartbreaking moments when he’s wounded and so vulnerable and he lets Sebastian wrap him up and chase the shadows away. Sebastian loves every inch of him, and he was just on a stage, microphone in hand, hundreds of eyes on him in the audience, tens of thousands of eyes on him once it got to social media, calling Sebastian  _sweetheart_.  
   
“I’m coming down,” he says, into Chris’s voicemail. “To Chicago. You’re staying overnight, right? Text me what hotel you’re in, I’ll meet you there in a few hours. Bye. Oh, I love you. See you soon.”  
   
Sebastian packs an overnight bag and heads for the airport, hoping he won’t have to wait too long for a flight. He waits a while, but it’s still a lot faster than driving. More expensive, but he couldn’t possibly care about that. When he lands, and is able to check his phone, there’s a voicemail from Chris. Sebastian opens it as he deplanes, moving slowly in the line of passengers gathering their belongings and exiting the aircraft.  
   
“Hi,” Chris’s voice says, laughing as he speaks. “Uh. Okay, why? I mean, great, can’t wait to see you, but why, exactly? I guess you’ll tell me when you get here. I’ll text you the address, like you said. I … fuck, Seb.” His voice goes quieter, hushed and low, like maybe he’s still in a room with other people and he doesn’t want them to overhear. “I don’t know what’s going on … I really hope this is a good spontaneous trip, I hope you’re okay … but fuck, I can’t wait to see you. I miss you like crazy. Get here fast, okay?”  
   
The message ends with a distorted voice in the background, somebody getting Chris’s attention and making him hang up the phone. Butterflies swarm in Sebastian’s stomach. There is a text as well, with a street address and about a dozen heart emojis, and Sebastian smiles. He tugs the baseball cap he’d thrown on down lower, and slips his sunglasses on as he enters the main terminal. There is no reason for him to be in Illinois, in the city where a comic book convention is currently taking place, a convention that just hosted a panel with other stars of the same franchise Sebastian is in. He doesn’t usually mind being spotted in public and asked for a selfie and a hug, but if anyone recognizes him here, he’ll have some explaining to do and the Marvel bosses won’t be happy about it. They aren’t thrilled in the first place, that two of their stars are secretly dating. And Chris gets in more trouble than Sebastian does, the few times they’ve had a close call, because he’s the face of the franchise. Sebastian is a side-character.  
   
It’s well after dark by the time Sebastian’s cab pulls up in front of the hotel. He pays the driver, and then walks through the front doors, hoping if he looks casual and confident enough, the man at the front desk will assume he’s a registered guest and not stop him. There’s a line of people waiting to check in, so although the man does send a look his way, he doesn’t say anything as Sebastian heads for the elevators. Chris had left him a room number as well, so he hits the button for the seventh floor and finds it. He knocks, and it opens right away. Chris is still in the navy sweater and the Boston hat. His smile greets Sebastian like a fireworks display, bright and showy and blinding.  
   
“Please tell me you’re okay,” is the first thing he says, though, as he ushers Sebastian into the room.  
   
“I’m fine, sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be sitting here thinking something was wrong.”  
   
“God, okay, good.” Chris doesn’t wait for Sebastian to put his bag down before he’s tugging him into a big bear-hug. Sebastian laughs, drops his bag to the ground, and squeezes his arms around Chris’s broad back. “Hi, baby.”  
   
“I missed you, too,” Sebastian tells him, kisses the words into Chris’s shoulder, and then pulls back enough to kiss him for real. The brims of their hats bump, and Sebastian’s falls off and tumbles to the floor.  
   
Chris keeps one hand at the small of Sebastian’s back, and cups his cheek with the other, ocean blue eyes shining as he looks at him. “M’ so fuckin’ happy to see you,” he says, Boston accent slipping in.  
   
Sebastian nuzzles into him, the stubble scratching his face, leaving his skin warm and tingly.  
   
“Why’re you here?” Chris asks. “I’m over the damn moon that you are, but?”  
   
Reluctantly, Sebastian pulls out of his warm embrace enough to dig his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He opens Anthony’s text, clicks the link that takes him back to a fan’s Instagram account, turns up the volume, and plays it, holding it out so Chris can see.  
   
“But, but, y’know, he’s such a sweetheart, he’s  _such_  a good guy,” Chris’s voice says in the video. Sebastian can’t see the screen this time, so instead he watches Chris watch  _himself_ ; gets the reaction in real time. “He’s su- you all know, I mean it – it … it comes outta his pores, he’s just such a sweet guy, and uh … I really couldn’t have imagined, um, kind of, dipping our toe into these, y’know, uncertain waters, at that stage, with anyone other than him. He was … so, so sweet, and I – I think that first movie, him and I just were so terrified  _together_ , it was, uh … it made for a lot of nice memories.”  
   
“Oh,” Chris says softly, when it ends and Sebastian puts his phone back in his pocket. He blinks, eyes going worried. “You’re not mad, are you?”  
   
“Are you insane?” Sebastian laughs at the absurdity of that question. He takes Chris’s face in his hands and pulls him into another bruising kiss, letting it taper into a more gentle slide of their lips and then leaving his forehead resting against Chris’s. “I almost started crying the first time I watched it. Then I watched it about 20 more times. I can’t believe you said all that, on a stage, on camera. Chris.”  
   
Chris’s arms go back around his waist. “I got a little away from myself, huh?”  
   
“A little bit, yeah.” Sebastian smiles and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what I ever … did to deserve you. Somebody needs to go back in time and tell 13 year old me … hey, kid, I know you don’t fit in, I know you’re lonely, I know you’ve got an accent you hate and nightmares of Communism, but one day, the man of your dreams is gonna sit on a stage in front of hundreds of people who don’t know either of you, and tell the whole world you’re a sweetheart, and he couldn’t imagine going on this adventure with anyone but you.”  
   
“I’d tell that kid that, and a million other things,” Chris says, swaying just slightly as they hold each other, just moving minutely from foot to foot, almost like dancing but not quite, and there’s no music. Sebastian wishes there were. He wishes they were in a ballroom in front of a thousand people. “All about the amazing man he’s going to grow up to be, all about how much I’m gonna love him.”  
   
“You’re gonna need to fuck me, now,” Sebastian tells him, not bothering to beat around any bushes.  
   
Chris’s surprised laugh sounds like choking. “Fuck, just gonna drop that on me, no foreplay or nothin’?”  
   
“After. After-play. We can play all you want, after I’ve come with your dick inside me,” Sebastian insists. He knows what he sounds like. He had nearly 90 minutes at LAX and four hours in the air thinking about it, letting it all this fester in his mind, watching the video many more times while squirming in his seat and trying desperately not to pop a boner and scar the sweet old lady next to him for what remains of her life. “I will suck you off, I’ll eat you out, I’ll do every fuckin’ thing you can think of, but first you gotta fuck me.”  
   
“Jesus Christ,” Chris breathes, his voice dropping what must be a whole octave and his fingers curling in Sebastian’s jacket. His energy changes, quick like a switch was flipped, from laughing and teasing and playful to so turned on he can’t think straight. Sebastian likes having that effect on him. He definitely uses it for evil, now and again, and Chris makes him pay for it later. That’s Sebastian’s favorite part.  
   
Sebastian flicks the hat off Chris’s head. It was pushed up already anyway, after knocking against Sebastian’s head as they kissed. Chris’s hair is matted and messy underneath, probably could use a shower after a long day, and so could Sebastian, but later. Right now he just cares about getting Chris naked, and maybe showing him a thing or two about just how sweet Sebastian can be for him. He shrugs out of his jacket and then pulls at Chris’s sweater, getting it up over his head and off with minimal effort. Chris’s bare chest comes into view, dark hairs swirled over his pecs, skin pale and freckled, a beautiful contrast against the dark black of his tattoos. Sebastian attaches his lips to the one at Chris’s collarbone because he’s been fixated on that one since Chris got it.  
   
“So you’re … not kidding,” Chris says, his voice wobbles, aroused and husky.  
   
“Nope.” Sebastian nips at him, and Chris hisses, and that seems to shake him from his momentary stupor and catch him up to where Sebastian’s already been for hours.  
   
“Strip, then,” he orders, “and get on the bed, knees apart.”  
   
A shiver runs down Sebastian’s entire spine, from his neck to the base of his back. That commanding, Captain America voice never fails to leave his hands shaking. He does as he was told, tearing at his clothes and stumbling towards the bed. He lies back on it, feet propped up on the mattress and legs spread, like Chris wanted. Chris is watching him from much too far away but the predatory gleam in his eyes makes it feel like he’s draped over Sebastian’s body. That look bathes him in warmth, and the dizzying tingle of embarrassment, at being on display and having Chris just staring at him, eyes raking over his form, taking it all in. In another moment, Sebastian might tell him to stop staring and get himself naked as well. Right now, it doesn’t feel like he should.  
   
Finally Chris comes over, casually rubbing himself through his jeans like it’s nothing, like the sight of it doesn’t go right to Sebastian’s already hard dick. Chris touches one of his legs, just barely runs feather-light fingertips over it, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He hooks his hands under Sebastian’s knees and tugs, yanking him a foot down the bed, so he can touch other places. Fingers brush Sebastian’s stomach, tracing the patterns of muscle, bending his knuckles so his blunt nails dig in just a little. His hand moves over Sebastian’s thighs, dipping to the more sensitive skin on the inside, moving up so slowly.  
   
“Touch yourself,” Chris says, soft but a clear command.  
   
Sebastian does immediately, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking slowly, swiping his thumb over the head, playing languidly with himself while Chris watches with hungry eyes.  
   
“Look at you,” he breathes. He leans down and kisses Sebastian’s knee. “Doin’ exactly what I asked, not even thinkin’ about it first. I’d tell the whole world how good you are if I could, baby. They’d be so jealous I get to have you and they don’t.”  
   
Sebastian’s skin tingles, the praise washing over him like warm water. He’s been turned on for hours, now, but in a way that transcends physical so deeply it’s even more destructive. Chris  _loves_  him, that much was obvious from the second he started babbling on that stage. Chris loves him, and wishes he could yell it from rooftops, but he can’t, so he does it in his own way. It makes Sebastian’s heart swell, makes him want to give this man everything, every last piece of himself.  
   
“Chris,” he mumbles.   
   
“I know,” Chris soothes. “I know what you need, sweetheart. Move your hand, okay?”  
   
Sebastian does, and Chris leans over and replaces it with his mouth. He drags his tongue slowly over Sebastian’s erection, and then sucks the head into his mouth, and it takes Herculean effort for Sebastian to keep from crying out so loud they’ll hear it in the lobby. Chris works him until his head is spinning and he’s sweating and muttering words that might not even be English. When he pulls off with a ragged gasp just as Sebastian had started to clench his jaw and will himself not to come before they’ve begun the main event, Chris looks up with his lips red and shiny and his cheeks flushed and Sebastian has to close his eyes because he could come just from looking at him like that, wrecked and messy and perfect.   
   
“I don’t have …” Chris looks over at Sebastian’s bag. “You didn’t happen to bring …?”  
   
It takes Sebastian’s sex-soaked brain a minute to register what Chris is asking, and then he groans when he does. “Fuck. No, I didn’t think of it.”  
   
“It’s okay, we’ll … hold on, I’ll be right back.” Chris kisses his hip. “Get up to the pillows, get comfy.”  
   
He disappears into the bathroom. Sebastian forces his heavy limbs to work and pushes himself up to the head of the bed again, lying back against the pile of cushions and trying to arrange himself so he looks good when Chris returns. He wants to touch himself again, cock aching and desperate for more friction, but Chris didn’t say he could, so he doesn’t. Chris comes back a minute later, finally naked, gorgeously hard and flushed and a walking wet dream, holding the complimentary bottle of hair conditioner in his hand. He looks down at it, and grins, for a moment sliding back from self-assured sex-god Chris into goofy, every-day Chris. “My dick’s gonna smell like mangos.”  
   
Sebastian laughs, but his voice sounds intoxicated as he says, “doesn’t sound so bad.” He feels high already, so many hours of anticipation leaving him buzzing just under the surface.  
   
Chris flops down next to him, pressing the whole line of his body up to Sebastian’s side, and leans down to kiss him. Chris puts his entire self into kisses like this one, like he’s trying to pour his soul out through his lips for Sebastian to absorb into his skin. It’s overwhelming. Sebastian was much more affected by that video than he’d be willing to admit outside the safety of Chris’s arms. It was like Chris claiming him, declaring ownership of him in such a public setting, telling that room and the world, in the best way he knows how, that Sebastian is his. Sebastian had liked it an alarming amount. He finds himself wanting Chris to brand him somehow, to tattoo his name into Sebastian’s skin, to get him a collar and a leash and parade him around so everyone would know who Sebastian belongs to. They’ve dabbled, in things of that nature. Discovered some things Sebastian likes. Praise, and orders, and giving up control. They discovered Sebastian can fade onto a different plane of existence when Chris says too many nice things to him while he’s touching him or fucking him – so many years of insecurities and always being the outsider leaving him in need of reassurance, and getting it from Chris leaves him woozy. Sebastian did some research on that, after the first time it happened and freaked them both out. They’ve never gone anywhere close to some of the other things Sebastian has read about in brave moments of curiosity. He maybe could want them to. Maybe not actually a collar, but maybe something.  
   
He’s being kissed so thoroughly he isn’t aware of Chris popping the cap on the bottle and coating his fingers until he feels them pressing between his legs, silently asking for permission. Sebastian lets his legs fall apart further, giving Chris room, and Chris presses a finger forward in one long, fluid motion, and then adds another quickly because he knows Sebastian can take it, knows he likes the burn. Chris kisses him through it, surrounding him, assaulting every sense until Sebastian is boneless and barely able to rock his hips down to meet the slow thrusting of Chris’s fingers. The spot inside him is grazed, and then more deliberately pressed against, and Sebastian hears himself moaning, synapses lit up like firecrackers. It’s so good when Chris touches there, bursts of pleasure erupting from the inside out, leaving him shaky and disoriented.  
   
“So perfect,” Chris tells him, words smeared into his cheek. “So, so sweet, like I said this afternoon. Couldn’t ask for anyone better than you. My Sebastian, the kindest, most selfless soul in the whole world. Mine. Love every bit of you. Love you grumpy in the mornings. Love you giving everything you got to every role. Always so eager to please everyone. Love that big gorgeous brain of yours, and that beautiful heart.”  
   
Chris is the one with the beautiful heart, but Sebastian can’t say that because his mouth stopped working when Chris said  _mine_. He’s slipping, faster than he had the last time it happened, the world around him going hazy and sensations heightening. Chris’s fingers inside him, Chris’s body heat pressed to his side, Chris’s lips on his neck. He reaches, finds Chris’s arm and pats it urgently, because he wants to be conscious for at least some of Chris fucking him, before he slides all the way.  
   
Chris knows what he’s trying to communicate, and pulls his fingers out. Sebastian shudders at the loss and immediately wants them back. He must mumble something to that effect, because Chris chuckles warmly and says, “Patience, baby. Somethin’ better is comin’.”  
   
There’s movement, but Sebastian can’t tell what it is. He just lies there, the sheets smooth against his back and the edges of reality blurred just a little, like being tipsy. Chris is kissing him again, and talking softly to him. Sebastian doesn’t hear him, but it seems important, so he forces the word out, forces himself to ask for it to be repeated.  
   
“Jesus, you’re gone already,” Chris says, like it’s the most magical thing. “Got no idea what that does to me, Seb. No idea how much it turns me on that I can get you here so fast.”  
   
Sebastian just hums in response, and lights up inside.  
   
“I need you to do something for me, is what I said. Can you? You wanna show me, right? That you’re everything I said you were today?”  
   
_Yes_ , his mind screams at him,  _anything, everything, whatever you want_. He nods. His eyes might be closed. He can’t really tell.  
   
“Gotta get up. Just for a minute, just so we can get you into my lap.”  
   
Sebastian groans but he does it, because Chris asked him to, and Chris helps and whispers nice things to him while he does. Chris leans against the headboard and pulls Sebastian on top of his thighs, settling him and kissing him and petting his hair.  
   
“So good,” he whispers. “You still with me over there?”  
   
“Yeah,” Sebastian manages to answer. He blinks a few times and things slip back into focus a little. He finds Chris’s eyes, anchoring himself to all that blue.  
   
“Feelin’ good?” Chris asks, already knowing the answer. He rubs Sebastian’s arms.  
   
“Good,” Sebastian repeats.  
   
“That’s what I like to hear.” His hands grip Sebastian’s hips. “Up, okay, just for a second.”  
   
With Chris’s help Sebastian raises up to his knees so Chris can line his dick up between Sebastian’s ass cheeks, and then Sebastian sinks onto it, faster than maybe he should, faster than probably Chris would like him to, but the sting makes him feel electrified. He sighs as he adjusts, the burn slipping away and his nerve endings lighting up, heat rushing over him. He slumps in Chris’s lap, his head dipping, the slight change in angle pushing Chris in just a bit deeper, pressed right against Sebastian’s prostate. Rubbing, sending delicious shockwaves across his body.  
   
“There he is,” Chris murmurs, sounding loving and looking awestruck. He talks about this a lot – the bleary face Sebastian makes in the moment the discomfort slides into pleasure. He always says Sebastian looks like he’s dreaming with his eyes open. “There’s my sweet boy.”  
   
Sebastian moves, lifting his hips and dropping them back down, wanting so badly to be everything Chris could ever need so Chris never has to look anywhere else. Chris’s cock moves inside him, sliding over sensitive skin, pressing into spots that make his eyes roll back. He moves, even as his shoulders sag and his head feels like it’s filled with cotton, because Chris deserves him to try, not to just lie there motionless and expect someone else to do all the work.  
   
“Sebastian,” Chris says, gentle but not giving him the option to not reply.  
   
“Yes.” Sebastian’s hands find Chris’s shoulders, holding onto him, keeping him tethered to the moment.  
   
“Do you want me to …?”  
   
Sebastian shakes his head. “Not yet.”  
   
Chris nods. “Okay. Stay with me, okay? Just a little longer.”  
   
“I can.” Sebastian blinks again.  
   
“I know you can.” The backs of Chris’s knuckles slide over his cheek.   
   
His other arm is snug around Sebastian’s waist, keeping him close. His eyes are liquid, love and wonder shining in them, like looking up at Sebastian is looking at everything he’s ever wanted. The video flashes through Sebastian’s mind again, Chris melting in his seat, voice cracking,  _sweetheart_. He has to tip his forehead down against Chris’s. Can’t look at him anymore, it’s too much. Chris snaps his hips up, purposely hitting the spot inside, and Sebastian moans as sparks fly through his veins.   
   
“Talk to me,” Chris urges.  
   
He likes to talk, when they’re together, a lot more than Sebastian is capable of at the moment, as he’s skirting the line between conscious and not. He manages to mumble, “called me sweet.”  
   
“Mm,” Chris hums, kissing his cheek. He holds Sebastian’s hips and helps him move, slow rolls of his body. “That’s ‘cause you are. The way you light up when you know you’ve made me happy. And you always make me happy, sweetheart. Every single day. You hopped on a plane and flew across the country to see me.”  
   
Later, when he’s coherent, Sebastian will tell him that he wanted to cry and yell and laugh all at once, watching Chris getting as close to saying  _I love him_  in public as he could.  
   
“So good and kind and giving,” Chris continues, his voice soft and warm and like melted sugar on Sebastian’s heated skin. “Love you so much, can’t even wrap my head around it sometimes.”  
   
Sebastian hears himself whimper, and both Chris’s arms go around his back.  
   
He presses a kiss to Sebastian’s ear, and then whispers, right into it, “Go, if you want. I got you. I’ll take care of you.”  
   
The permission is all Sebastian needs. He trembles in Chris’s arms and slips, slides into that delicious, semi-conscious state, where everything is warm and glittery and nothing can touch him but Chris. He’s vaguely aware of being flipped over and pounded into, rough but it feels like floating. Like drifting through soft breezes, like flower petals on his skin, like the moment at the end of a nice dream, not quite asleep but not fully awake either, just hovering in between realms.  
   
There are fingers on his face, brushing lightly, sliding down his neck and his shoulder and his arm, and then back up. Into his hair, petting, gentle and unmistakably loving. Words are being whispered to him, and lips are touching his cheek, his forehead. He’s being dragged back to consciousness, but gently, letting his brain take the time it needs to realign with his senses. Sebastian manages to open his eyes, blinking to focus them, and finds himself in Chris’s arms. Chris is still petting him, with his face close. Sebastian anchors himself to those baby blues.  
   
“Back with me?” Chris asks, fingers moving in Sebastian’s hair.  
   
Sebastian nods. His voice is raspy as he asks, “how long?”  
   
“Maybe 15 minutes.”  
   
He exhales, and his eyes close again. “Longest it’s ever been.”  
   
“Yeah.” Chris says the word like he’d been mesmerized by it. He moves his hand to Sebastian’s face, thumb brushing under his eye. Belatedly, Sebastian realizes his cheeks are wet. “What do you need?”  
   
“Just you.”  
   
“You got me,” Chris promises. “But you … you should eat something, or at least some water.”  
   
“I will. Just … don’t go, not yet.” Sebastian knows he’s pleading. He doesn’t care.  
   
“Oh, baby,” Chris sighs, wrapping his arm around Sebastian’s back and pulling him in closer. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”  
   
Sebastian snuggles into him, wincing just slightly at the mess he can feel on his stomach. He doesn’t remember coming, but he must have.  
   
Chris jokes, “if I’d know what it would do to you, I’d have said all that stuff a lot sooner.”  
   
“You have,” Sebastian reminds him. He’s a little more steady, now, and he finds his voice again. “Not even close to the first time you’ve said that stuff. You’ve been calling me sweet in interviews since the first movie.”  
   
“I didn’t know you knew that. Didn’t know you watched them.”  
   
“I overheard you talking about me, once, with Hayley. When we were doin’ The First Avenger. You said somethin’ about … you’d never met anyone like me, and you couldn’t believe how sweet I was.”  
   
“Oh yeah?” Chris kisses the top of Sebastian’s head.  
   
“It’s been your word for me for eight years.”  
   
“I stand by it.” Another kiss to his hair, and then Chris asks, “can I please get you some water?”  
   
Sebastian wants to argue, wants to keep Chris in his arms forever, but taking care of him after is part of it for Chris. So he nods, and releases his grip, and lets Chris climb out of the bed, knowing he’ll be right back. He relaxes against the softness of the bed underneath him. Chris is back, moments later, with a warm washcloth to clean him up and a glass of water that he helps Sebastian sip from. Sebastian does feel better, after, and even better when Chris shuts off the lamp and crawls back in with him. He drags the comforter up over them both and hauls Sebastian back into his arms.  
   
“You remember that conversation, with Hayley?” Sebastian asks, once he’s tucked back up against Chris’s chest.  
   
“I do, actually. She said I was in love with you. I told her she was nuts.”  
   
“Two weeks later you kissed me in my trailer.”  
   
“Mmhm. She was right. She made me realize how I felt about you.”  
   
“You ever tell her that?”  
   
Chris laughs. “No. She would have been insufferable.”  
   
“Mackie sent me the video, today.”  
   
“He’s gonna be insufferable too.”  
   
“Probably.”  
   
“Do you have to go back to L.A., tomorrow?”  
   
Sebastian probably should go back in the morning, but it’s the last thing on earth he wants to do. He wants to stay here with Chris for as long as possible. “I could stay for another day. Don’t have anything lined up tomorrow. But after that, yeah. I will be in New York, next week. You’re back with your family, right? After this?”  
   
“I bet there’s a roadside motel somewhere halfway between Boston and Manhattan. Bet we could get a room without being recognized, if we were careful.”  
   
“That sounds risky.”  
   
“Up for it?” Chris asks. It’s a clear challenge, and Sebastian smiles.  
   
“Yep.”

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)


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